


An Unexpected Outcome

by iamavacado



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Marriage Proposal, New Year's Eve, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, analogical - Freeform, proposal, royality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 07:49:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17158106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamavacado/pseuds/iamavacado
Summary: Romantic epiphanies are indeed dope, and Virgil has one at just the right moment. So he goes to Roman for help.





	An Unexpected Outcome

**Author's Note:**

> This is my christmas exchange story in @darknightvirgil's discord server. this story is for @logicallycrofters. follow them on tumblr!!!!!!!!!1

Dinner that night had been Virgil’s attempt at spaghetti. In Logan’s words, it was satisfactory. Although, Virgil did notice that Logan had to smother his bowl in parmesan. He tried to keep it discreet though, so Virgil didn’t comment on it. Afterwards, Logan worked on some projects he’d been developing. Virgil, on the other hand, opted for some writing. He got a few sentences onto his word document before he realized three hours had passed. It was nine o clock by the time they met up again to watch a movie. Logan let Virgil pick, and of course, he went with his favorite.

Virgil shifted in the bed, bringing the cover up closer to him as Logan said, “I’m still not sure how much enjoyment you could get out of a movie you’ve seen forty times.”

“Forty one now,” Virgil corrected as he mumbled the opening theme. “Boys and girls of every age…”

Logan scoffed, but Virgil could see the smirk peeking through his frown. “It’s not even Halloween.”

“Christmas is also in the title.” Virgil turned up the volume. “And don’t even start with your whole ‘Christmas has passed’ thing. December 25th to January 1st all counts as honorary Christmas time. Why do you think people leave up their decorations until New Year's?”

Virgil could see that Logan was about to say something, but he closed his mouth, and crossed his arms in acceptance, turning his attention to the movie. Soon, they both fell silent and just enjoyed it. It was quiet save for the movie, and every now and then Logan could see Virgil mouthing the lines each character was saying.

After the movie ended, they both just enjoyed each other’s company in quiet. Logan worked on a crossword puzzle magazine, and Virgil scrolled through his phone. It was a small bit of peace they both enjoyed at the end of a stressful day.

The time was 11:43. Virgil knew that because he had glanced up to see the time before suggesting that he was going to turn over and get some sleep, because he had an early day tomorrow. Just as he opened his mouth though, Logan exclaimed.

“This crossword has a typo in it!”

Virgil looked over, and saw Logan staring down at his crossword magazine. His glasses were on, but slightly fallen down his nose. His eyebrows were scrunched together, and the frown on his face was one of disgust at the typo. His right hand, holding the pen, was in the air, and his left hand had tightened around the magazine. He was completely absorbed in this obviously fatal mistake that these supposed professional crossword puzzle creators were supposed to catch.

Virgil half smiled. That was when he knew.

***

Virgil shut the door behind him, with one quick check to see if Logan had followed them. “I can _not_ believe I’m about to ask you for advice on this. No offense,” he quickly added.

Roman had his hands on his hips, but he crossed them over his chest. “Some taken,” he said. He gestured for Virgil to follow him to his bed, where they both sat. The sun had set at this point, and the only thing visible from Roman’s window was the full moon, illuminating the fresh snow below. It seemed to sparkle in the night. “What do you need to ask for advice about?”

There was a slight pause. Virgil looked down at the floor, and sighed. Then he looked back up at Roman. “On how I should propose to Logan.”

***

“WHAT?”

Roman had shot up from his bed, as if he’d been punched in the face. But he didn’t look hurt. He looked like surprise, excitement, and mania had had a baby. He immediately started to pace the room. “I don't believe this. I can't believe it.” He started to pick up his pace, but stopped. “WAIT!” He spun around and shot a finger at Virgil. “Are you pulling the metaphorical wool over my eyes?”

“What? Why would I do that? No. God. I just--I love him, and--” Virgil paused, looking at anything but Roman, fidgeting with his jacket sleeves-- “I feel so gross saying it. Don’t make me say it.”

“You feel gross that you...love Logan?” asked Roman, crossing his arms. “You don’t want to admit that you love your boyfriend?”

“It just feels weird.”

“Say it.”

“I don’t want to say it.”

“If you don’t say it then I won’t help you propose.”

Virgil stood. “Fine, I’ll ask Patton.” He started to walk towards the door, and his hand was on the knob when he felt Roman’s hand on his shoulder.

“Wait! I’ll help you.”

Virgil turned around, and crossed his arms over his chest, looking up at Roman. They had a bit of a stare off before he finally sighed, turning his gaze to the floor, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I...guess that...Iloveloganalotandhemeansalottome…”

Roman paused, a smile sneaking onto his face. “Wh-- what? Huh?”

Virgil pushed past him and went back over to Roman’s bed. “You heard me.”

“I don’t think I did,” said Roman, meandering over to where Virgil was sitting. He was grinning now, having put his hands in his own pockets. “I don’t think I could hear you over all that teen angst.”

“I’m going to punch you.”

“What did you say?” Roman put his hand to his ear, leaning down. Virgil groaned. “One more time?”

“I said that I love Logan and he means a lot to me! There! Happy? God.” He pulled his legs up on the bed and crossed them. “Just help me.”

Roman clapped. “Fantastic. Okay, here we go.” He turned around, and headed to his closet. He flung the door open and started rummaging inside of it, tossing clothes out behind him onto the floor. Virgil tried to see what exactly he was looking for, but he couldn’t see. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time,” Roman mumbled.

“For what?”

After a few moments of searching, Roman finally turned around holding a rather thick binder. There was a paper slid into the front sleeve that read ‘The Vogan Proposal, volume I’.

“The Vogan Proposal?” Virgil said, his face scrunching up in confusion. “Volume _one?”_

Roman turned the binder over and looked at the title disapprovingly. “Yeah, I know the name could have been better. But the only other one I could think of was Lirgil and, well...you understand.”

“There’s more than one volume of this?” asked Virgil as Roman plopped down next to him and opened the binder to what appeared to be a table of contents. “And, this exists in the first place?”

“Of course this exists. Frankly, I'm offended you'd be surprised that it does. And, did you think I could fit it all in one binder? There’s the proposal, the planning, the suits, the cake, the ceremony, the reception. It all needs to be categorized,” Roman explained as he ran his finger down the pages. He seemed to be looking for a particular section. It baffled Virgil that this entire thing was so massive that it had to be separated by sections. “To be honest, I didn’t think you’d be the one to work up the nerve to propose first. Especially not so early.”

“Logan and I have been dating for three years, and we’ve known each other for seven,” Virgil deadpanned.

Roman waved him off. “Yeah yeah. Well, even though most of this is about Logan proposing first, I still have many ideas involving you as well. They’re just at the back. Hold on.” He flipped a page, and once again was running his finger down each line, trying to find the one he was looking for. Suddenly, he stopped, tapping the page. “Here we are. ‘In Which Virgil Comes to Me In Secret And Asks For Advice On How to Propose to Logan.’”

“What?” Virgil peeked at the page, because he couldn’t believe that it actually said that, but it did. “How do you have a section for this exact situation?”

He shrugged. “I have a section for every situation. I’ve been working on this for a long time.”

“How long?”

A pause. “Since the week you guys met,” he mumbled, looking for the page numbers. Virgil was about to say something, but Roman cut him off by saying, “Since Christmas has passed, we obviously can’t do a Christmas day proposal, so that’s out.” He sighed longingly. “And what a shame too; it would have been wonderful. Unless, of course, you want to wait until next year.”

“No,” Virgil said, his tone more stern than he meant it to be. “I want it to be as soon as I can.”

“So then, that eliminates summer, fall, and spring. 3/4th of the book Virgil, are you happy?”

“How many times do you expect me to propose to him Roman?”

Roman threw his hand in the air. “At _least_ seven!” He flipped an entire chunk of pages until he was near the back of the binder. There was a small index there too, under the title Roman had said. He sighed, defeated. He could only get in the one proposal out of Virgil, so he continued on. “So, winter. Specifically, December. You want to do it before January right?”

Virgil shifted in his seat, and put his hands in his pockets. He stammered a little bit. “Um, well, actually I...I was thinking…” he cleared his throat. “I was thinking maybe of...doing it on...on New Year’s Eve?”

“Oooooo.” Roman nudged him. “Very classy. I like it. Lucky for you, I have an abundance of New Year’s Eve ideas.” In the Virgil section, there was a subsection for the year, the season, the month, and the day, December 31st. In that subsection, there were a countless amount of other subsections with keywords that made no sense. Chocolate, America, Umami, Potpourri? To Virgil, it was gibberish, but it seemed to mean something to Roman. “Daytime or nighttime?”

“How about at midnight?” asked Virgil.

Roman pointed a finger at him. “Classic.” He flipped to a page, which looked like a wall of text and bullet point lists. “Let’s see the grand total.” He counted. “For 2018, from Virgil to Logan, in the winter, during December, on New Year’s Eve, at midnight on the dot--! You have...38 options on how to propose.”

“How concise,” Virgil said sarcastically. “Can I see them?”

“Sure.” Roman handed the binder over, which landed with a thunk in Virgil’s lap as he looked over each option.

Every choice came with a nearly page long description. It kind of started like a recipe. There was a funky title: _As The Ball Drops, So Do I--To My Knee, That Is._ Under the title there was a little section that explained what you needed. For that particular title, the 'what you need’ section included tap dancing shoes, memorization of a showtune Virgil didn't recognize, three other people that were assumed to complete a barbershop quartet, a striped shirt (ct. 4), and 5 tickets to New York to see the ball drop in person. Under that section, there was a step by step set of instructions on how exactly to carry out the proposal. It included the when, the how, the what, and the where. Virgil read it all incredulously, then looked over at Roman.

“You're telling me you put the one where I perform a musical in the section about me?” he asked. “Do you even realize who I am?”

Roman shrugged. “Some of them may be duds, Virgil, you should be happy to have some variety. What did you want to do? Take him to dinner and propose there? That's so overdone. At least here you have some choice. What exactly is it that you want?”

“I don't know! Something big, yeah. But not _this_ big. Or this...weird. A barbershop quartet is weird, Roman. Really weird.”

“Okay, _fine._ I admit that one was weird. Flip a few pages forward, maybe you'll find something you like.”

Virgil did so. He turned a couple pages until he skimmed a few that actually didn't seem that insane. Roman pointed at one that was titled 'The Little Logan’. A play on the Little Dipper. Some of the titles could be better. 

“Take him to an observatory simulation at a museum, or a similar place,” Virgil read aloud. “Have him point out constellations to you, but arrange it so one of them spells out 'will you marry me logan’. He looks up, and when he looks at you, you're on one knee.” The description after that was lengthy, since he'd only read the summary. It felt like a textbook. But it wasn't terrible. “This one's kind of good,” he said to Roman.

Roman beamed proudly. “When I say that some of them are duds, that obviously means that _most_ of them _aren't_ duds, thank you very much. Look more, you have 30 other choices.”

Virgil did as he was told. They sat there in quiet for a good ten or so minutes as he looked over his choices. Most of them were, quote unquote “duds” as Roman put it, but Virgil didn’t point them out. He just moved past them and continued forward. After some time though, Roman cleared his throat as subtle as possible.

“Do you...um-- do you have a choice?” he asked. 

“Uh…” Virgil had dog-eared a few pages, and flipped back to them at his question. “I like...I like these ones.” He handed the book over to Roman and he looked them over as well.

“This one,” Roman said, chuckling, pointing at one, “may not be the wisest one. Convincing the people who run the big screen to put words on it is not as easy as it seems. I tried when I proposed to Patton. That’s actually why I put this in here, and I forgot to take it out when they kicked me out of the stadium.”

Virgil smirked. “Kicked you out of the stadium? What did you do?”

Roman looked down at the ground, half smiling and half laughing at himself. “I may have tried to bribe the guy who runs the camera, and then when he wouldn’t take my bribe, I might have started crying--”

“Crying?!”

“Yep! I think it was fake crying at first, but then it turned into real crying.” They both laughed. “I mean-- I wanted to give Patton a real proposal, you know? Something huge, something that just, captures our relationship. Something that...I don’t quite know how to put it.”

Virgil was looking down at the binder. He’d taken it back by this point. He was staring down at the page, smile faded. “Something real Roman-esque.”

Roman laughed softly. “Roman-esque. That’s just right. Well, about the camera man, we’re actually kind of friends now. He was in my theatre group, and…”

Virgil sat there staring at the open book while Roman rattled on, reading the same title over and over again until his voice all but faded out. He couldn’t quite pin it, but something started to pull him down. His stomach flipped as his thoughts started to float to Logan.

The first question was, would he say yes? The rational part of his brain said of course Logan would say yes, but the other part wasn’t so sure. Logan could be stubborn. He could be distant without meaning to. He could be...traditional. How would he react to a Roman Style proposal? Would he even _want_ to be proposed to? They’d been dating for three years now, and it was basically like being married. They’d cook for each other, clean, make jokes, tease each other, and all the other things married couples would do. Did they really have to make it official?

They had a bubble. The bubble was nice. And anything that needed to be done could be done in their familiar bubble. Right? 

_Their familiar bubble._

“Do you think that he’d even want to marry me?” Virgil asked, cutting Roman off. He closed the binder.

Roman looked like he didn’t know what he was supposed to say for a moment. He kind of sputtered like a car engine dying out. Then he said, “What are you talking about, Virgil? Of course he’d want to marry you.”

“I mean like, not in that he would break up with me. It’s just, would he want to make such a fuss to tie the knot when we’re already kind of...unofficially married?”

“Ah.” Roman gently took the binder from him. “You were like me.”

“I was like you?”

“Yeah. Patton and I had been dating for a few years too. It was the thought of, why even bother?”

Virgil nodded. He was staring at his hands in his lap, loosely clasped together. “Right.”

“But it was a beautiful thing, Virgil. You were there for the proposal, wasn’t it great? And having a wedding is one of the greatest moments of someone’s life, to those who want a wedding anyway. Just--” he smiled in remembrance-- “standing there at the altar, seeing the person you love, all dressed up, walking down the aisle, looking at you with the happiest eyes. It’s...personal. Something only you can understand. Especially with what you and Logan have.” 

Virgil looked at him, and looked at the binder. Its silly, nonsense title stared back at him.

“You’re right,” Virgil said after a few moments. “You are.” He stood, and sighed. “And...that’s why I can’t use any ideas from your binder.”

Roman had been smiling, but it fell quickly at what Virgil had said. “What? Wh...why not?”

“I mean, it’s like you said,” Virgil explained, “It’s something personal. That only Logan and I can understand, you know? And, I just feel like…” He gestured to the binder. “Using one of those ideas...it wouldn’t be my proposal. It would be yours.”

“Well…”

“And I appreciate you going to all the trouble of making this binder, even though...I never asked you to or...had any knowledge of you doing it. I didn’t mean to like, waste your time with even asking. But still. I just...I know what I need to do now. And I guess I want it to be something from my heart.” He stopped, and his nose scrunched up in disgust. “Oh my god, did I just say that unironically?”

“I wish I had that on tape,” Roman said. “But, I guess I understand. It breaks my heart to hear because I would have loved to be your proposal manager, so to speak, but...you’re right. You have to do something…” He smirked. “From the heart.”

Virgil stuck his hands in his pockets, and started towards the door. “I’m never gonna live that down.”

“Nope. But I appreciate you sharing your feelings from the heart with me.”

“Shut up Roman.” He left the room, leaving the door open.

Roman peeked his head out into the hallway. “I’m so glad we could have this heart to heart!”

“Shut up!”

*****

 

That night, it was Logan’s turn to cook. He tried to cook some pork chops, which ended up adorably burnt. Virgil ate them anyway, because if he wasn’t doing something at all times, he knew he would get inside of his own head and psyche himself out. He needed to keep reminding himself that it was a normal night, and that nothing was going to be different. Any normal New year's Eve night. They were going to celebrate the same way they always have: they were going to eat dinner, and then they were going to eat the container of moose tracks ice cream in the freezer they'd been saving for tonight, and then they were going to watch the ball drop together at midnight on the TV.

Logan and Virgil were sitting at the table eating dinner. Logan said, “How are your pork cho--”

“SO GOOD!” Virgil exclaimed. And right after he exclaimed that, he proceeded to mentally kick himself in the head. _It was supposed to be a normal night, idiot. And if you keep yelling like an idiot, then you are definitely going to tip Logan off, you idiot._

And then Virgil reminded himself to not call himself an idiot in his thoughts because, objectively, he was not an idiot. But, subjectively?

“I’m...glad they’re good,” Logan said slowly. 

Subjectively, Virgil was totally an idiot.

Afterwards, he could barely taste the ice cream on account of him being so nervous that he no longer had any sense of taste. Was that normal? It probably wasn’t normal. But he choked it down and tried not to say much for the rest of dessert. If he could be quiet, standoffish, and just a bit cold, then he could come off as normal. He told himself to say as little as possible, but on this particular night, Logan decided that he was going to make that impossible.

“I suspect that Patton has been sneaking bites of this ice cream at night,” said Logan, scooping in another bite. “Without realizing.”

“You mean--” Virgil cleared his throat-- “Like, sleep eating?”

Logan considered this for a second, his spoon hovering in the air, a drop of melting ice cream falling back into the bowl. He half smiled. “Yes, I guess so. Maybe we should start taping it shut.”

Virgil shoveled another bit into his mouth so he wouldn’t have to reply. Once the spoon was put in the bowl, he stuck his hand into his pocket, fishing around for the ring. He felt the plastic baggie that it was in, and tightened his grip around it like it would hop away if he gave it an opportunity. So he settled for running his thumb over the diamond through the thin veil of plastic.

He got it from a jewelry store downtown. Roman helped him pick it out. Virgil still felt bad that he didn’t end up using any of his binder ideas--even though it was still a little weird to him that made that thing--so he asked Roman to come with him to pick out the ring. It was probably for the best, too, because Virgil knew nothing about rings, and Roman seemed to know everything about rings. He found just the right one for Logan. It was a round diamond, with tiny little blue diamonds going halfway down the side. Roman insisted that it be engraved, but Virgil said that it was unnecessary, because Logan already knew that it was going to be from Virgil.

The fact that he was thinking this made him feel weird and gross and sentimental, but he couldn’t wait until that ring was around Logan’s finger.

Ice cream time ended too soon, and it was already 11:50 by the time they were in bed. Logan switched the TV over to the channel where the ball dropping would be shown. He had not let go of the ring the entire time.

“Who are they?” Logan asked, pointing to one of the featured performances playing a song.

“That’s, um…” Virgil cleared his throat again. Why was his throat so scratchy? “That’s Taylor Swift.”

Logan sounded it out. “Taylor Swift...Huh.”

Thankfully, Logan seemed to like Taylor Swift, so he didn’t speak for the rest of her set, which, conveniently, lasted for almost another ten minutes. By the time it was over for good, the time was 11:59. The people on the TV started to count down.

“Ready for a whole new year?” Logan asked. Virgil didn’t reply, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were glued to the TV. So he didn’t notice when Virgil slowly scooted off the bed. And he didn’t notice when Virgil pulled out the ring from the baggie and stare at it as it sat in his open palm.

“Ten!” Logan said. 

9\. 8. 7. 6. 5. 

Virgil stepped over to Logan’s side of the bed as casually as possible. Logan looked over at him curiously. But Virgil was looking at the TV, and taking huge deep breaths. “Four,” Virgil said.

“Three.”

“Two.” 

“One.”

All of the people onscreen shouted, “Happy new year!” and Logan did a small clap. Virgil took the remote and turned off the TV.

“Virgil?” asked Logan.

Virgil inhaled. He exhaled. He looked at Logan. And all of his nervousness left him in one big woosh. He had never been more sure about anything in his entire life.

He got down on one knee. Logan gasped.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” he asked. 

“Listen Logan,” Virgil started. “Remember every second of this, because you will never hear me being this sentimental and sappy ever again. And I’m going to look at the floor because if I have to look you in the eyes and say this, I will barf.” He looked down at the ground, holding up the ring, and began. “The other day, I asked Roman for advice on how to propose to you, and he gave me a bunch of ideas. I never ended up using them, obviously. They’d be way more extravagant than what I’m doing right now.” He half chuckled, and pushed onward. “I was talking to him, and he was telling me about Patton, and it made me realize that my proposal to you needed to be something from my own head, even if it would never dream of living up to one of his proposal ideas. Because we had…” he looked around the bedroom. “Our own little familiar bubble. With just the two of us. And if there was anywhere in the world I’d be comfortable proposing to you at, it would be here.”

“Virgil, I…”

“And, I love you. I know we’re already practically married and whatever, but I had a dream after I talked to Roman about our wedding. And---god, this is gross to admit--but I was at the altar, watching you walk down, and you looked so beautiful. So handsome. And I remember thinking how happy I was to be able to spend the rest of my life with you. So...that’s all I want. However much time I have left, 3 years, 30 years, 90 years, however long. I want to spend it with you. No take backs, no just in cases, no backtracking. So. Logan. Will you marry me?”

Virgil still had his eyes locked on the ground, so when his (in his opinion) moving speech was met with silence, he was confused. He looked up at Logan, whose mouth was ajar, staring down at him with wide open eyes.

The hand holding the ring faltered, and it fell a little bit. “You can...take all the time you need to answer, but the carpet is starting to hurt my knee.”

There was a small pause before Logan seemed to shake his head and bring himself back into reality. Then, he said, “Did Patton tell you?”

Virgil stood up, fidgeting with the ring in his hands. Suddenly, he didn’t feel so sure about this. “Tell me what?”

“D-did Patton tell Roman and then Roman told you?”

“Logan what are you talking about?”

Logan turned around and opened the drawer to the bedside table. He fumbled around inside of it, and then produced a black, velvet box. 

When he opened it, there was a ring it with a purple diamond. 

***

Virgil and Logan were sitting on the side of the bed next to each other, their hands intertwined together loosely. The black velvet box sat open next to Virgil on the comforter.

“Yes,” Logan explained, “I went to Patton the other day, and he pulled out this entire bag of rings for me to choose from. He told me that he was collecting them from this place or that place, hoping I would come to him one day and ask how to propose to you.”

Virgil looked at him. “Oh my god, really? Because when I went to Roman, he had this--”

“Giant binder,” Logan finished for him. “Patton told me about it, but I declined. It seemed a little weird.”

“It definitely was.”

“They are definitely made for each other.”

“Yeah,” said Virgil, “pretty much alike. But…” Virgil looked down at the ring again. “Are you sure you didn’t plan this?”

“I’m sure. I was going to do it tomorrow. I’d take you out to dinner, and then, once we were home, I’d let you pick the movie. And then?” Logan looked around their bedroom. “I’d propose to you in here. In our…”

“In our own little bubble.” Virgil scooted a little closer to Logan, and Logan put his arm around him and pulled him close. He leaned his head on Logan’s shoulder. “I can’t believe we were going to propose to each other at the same time.”

“In the same place,” Logan corrected. The smile was evident in his voice. “Maybe _we_ are made for each other as well.”

“Yeah, maybe we are,” Virgil said, chuckling. 

After a few quiet moments, Logan said, “So will you marry me?”

“That depends on if you’ll marry me.”

They both laughed, and then turned to look at each other, and pressed their lips together for a quick kiss. Then, Virgil put his ring onto Logan’s finger, and then Logan put his ring onto Virgil’s finger. 

“I love you,” they said in unison.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed it!! leave a comment maybe? happy holidays!


End file.
